


Maquis

by Duffydog



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duffydog/pseuds/Duffydog
Summary: An a/u set in the Alpha Quadrant – Janeway attempts to complete her mission to capture the rebel Maquis.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	1. Part 1:  October, 2371

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This is version 2 of my original outline ‘Maquis’. Version 1 eventually became ‘Would You Serve Under Me?’ Like that story, this one is dedicated to KJ, who, when asked which version she liked better, stated flatly, “both”. Well, KJ, here you are. Hope you like it. Although it is J/C, there is a lot more Janeway than Chakotay, for reasons which will become obvious. And, as always, thanks to Shayenne, who once again has worked her magic.

Striding through the corridors of her ship, Kathryn Janeway felt a gush of pride surge through her. Finally, she had reached the pinnacle of success – command of her own ship. And not just any ship, but Voyager – newly launched, state-of-the-art, pride of the Fleet. As she walked, her hand brushed along one wall, delighting in the solid feel of the tritanium hull. What a beauty this vessel was – sleek, streamlined, with an ovoid bow perfectly designed to push through deep space at a sustained speed of warp 9.975.

Reaching the turbolift, Janeway quickly rode up to the bridge, received a brief status report, then retreated to the sanctuary of her ready room. Time to go over her orders and make sure everything was ready. Activating her computer, she brought up first a star chart of the region near the Badlands, then a Starfleet Intelligence file on the planet Badrin before settling back to refresh her memory on its history.

_Badrin: a nondescript town on a backwater planet of the same name, located between the Bajoran colony of Prophet’s Landing and the Badlands._

_Like Prophet’s Landing, it was originally settled centuries ago by a roving band of Bajorans, but there the similarity ends. Badrin is a bleak planet, bereft of nearly all natural resources except one. Large deposits of eisilium, an extremely rare mineral valued throughout the quadrant, were discovered underneath the barren hills. The Bajoran colonists constructed an elaborate mining system, with a complex series of tunnels that eventually crisscrossed beneath the hills to such an extent that occasionally one of them collapsed. For several hundred years, the inhabitants of Badrin lived well, the eisilium mines supporting a comfortable, if not exactly luxurious lifestyle._

_And then the ore began to run out._

_As the mines closed one by one, the settlers sank into ever-deepening poverty. Those who could, left to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Those who could not, were forced to stay, eking out a miserable existence from the one mine still operating._

_With the departure of most of its people, the face of Badrin society changed. Various disreputable looking members of a number of different species started to appear, slipping in surreptitiously, then firmly ensconcing themselves in whatever abandoned structure they could find. With hardly any civil authority left, Badrin soon developed a reputation where anything was possible. The last remnants of the original colonists fled from the city into the hills as lawless elements, the dregs of innumerable planets, took control. The rule of law was abandoned in favour of a laissez-faire attitude which allowed every kind of transaction, legal and otherwise._

_Continuing hostilities between the Federation and Cardassia established Badrin as a kind of trading post, a place where, for the right price, anything might be obtained. Despite the truce declared in 2367, followed three years later by the formal treaty, Badrin has remained one of the best places in the region to secure prohibited goods as well as learn the latest information. The rise of the Maquis in response to growing Cardassian aggression has only increased Badrin’s importance. In the never-ending search for weapons and supplies, the Maquis pay frequent visits to the planet._

Closing down the terminal, Janeway sat back in her chair, recalling recent events.

“The Maquis pay frequent visits to the planet”, had written some unknown bureaucrat in his report, as he compiled information from various sources.

The thought ran through her head that the Maquis certainly had done that. As a result, they had drawn the attention of Starfleet, which in turn led directly to her current orders.

In early September, planning had gotten underway for a sortie to Badrin in the hope that a surprise attack might net the Federation some Maquis rebels, maybe even an entire ship along with its crew. She, Kathryn Janeway, was ordered to lead the raid. As well as the obvious mission of taking Maquis prisoners, she was instructed by Starfleet Intelligence to retrieve Lieutenant Tuvok, her chief of security, who had spent the previous three months as an undercover agent in a Maquis cell led by a former Starfleet officer, Chakotay.

Intelligence was most anxious not only to gather the latest information on the Maquis but also to learn Tuvok’s overall impression of the state of the resistance. The previous year, many officers in Starfleet had been convinced the movement was on the verge of collapse and yet, somehow, it had survived and even gained in strength. Intelligence had badly underestimated the popularity of the Maquis and, in an effort to avoid another such mistake, needed to learn the most up-to-date information possible before formulating a long-range policy to deal with it. Tuvok was generally considered to be the best chance of acquiring that information, and Janeway was told to get him out at all costs.

A trap had been set to lure Chakotay’s ship, the Liberty, to Badrin, the bait a large cache of recently stolen Federation weapons. Now, Voyager was hidden in a nearby asteroid belt while Janeway, accompanied by ten security officers, prepared to take a large shuttle to the city.

* * *

Night was falling when Chakotay, B’Elanna Torres and Tuvok transported down to Badrin. The message relayed to them had specified they could meet their contact in a bar named The Spider’s Web. Inside, they glanced around before moving to a table on the opposite side of the room where they had a clear view of the door.

When the Maquis arrived, Janeway’s team was already in place, waiting for them. She hesitated only until she was certain they had entered the bar before ordering her people to move in.

Abruptly slamming open the door, she charged in at the head of her detail. “Everyone stay where they are!” she bellowed. “Anyone who moves will be phasered!” Although small in stature, the authority in her voice left no one in any doubt that she would do exactly what she said. Stepping to one side, she waited as the lieutenant in charge of the team began to check identification. As her eyes roamed across the room, her gaze fell on a black-haired man sitting against the opposite wall with a young woman and Tuvok. Realizing that the man must be Chakotay, she studied him carefully.

Almost immediately, and much to her surprise, Janeway felt herself drawn to him by a pull so strong she had to consciously force her feet not to move. _This is ridiculous!_ she chastised herself furiously. _He’s the enemy!_ And yet, there was something about him, something tugging forcefully on her emotions. Disturbed and intrigued at the same time, she let her eyes wander slowly across his face, noting the broad forehead and strong cheekbones, the slightly crooked nose, and the beautifully curved mouth, so incongruous in a man of strength…yet, it suited him perfectly.

As if feeling Janeway’s intense stare, Chakotay suddenly turned his head to gaze directly at her.

Realizing her heart was fluttering in a most uncaptainly fashion, Janeway forced herself to look aside. However, even as she did, she noticed Chakotay start to rise to his feet. Her mouth tightened as anticipation warred with duty. _He’s the enemy,_ she reminded herself again, _focus on that and ignore everything else._

Across the bar, Chakotay’s thoughts were running along very similar lines. When he’d first felt the Starfleet captain’s eyes on him, he’d had every intention of returning her stare with defiance. But as his gaze raked over her, his expression changed, his hard glare softening to something close to wonder. Despite the distance separating them, there was an instant connection. She felt it, too; he could see it in her face, her expression one of puzzled surprise.

_She’s Starfleet,_ he tried to remind himself. _She represents everything you abhor…and yet, there’s something about her…._ Like one possessed, Chakotay began to get up from his chair, wanting to move closer to her, to discover if what he was seeing was really true.

Suddenly, with a brilliant flash of light and a loud bang, an incendiary grenade exploded at one side of the room near the door. Immediately, the bar erupted in flames as the furnishings caught fire and began to blaze. Terror-stricken, everyone jumped up, screaming frantically, which added to the din. Then, as the flames roared higher, spreading rapidly, there began a mad stampede towards the rear exit.

Beside him, Chakotay felt Tuvok leap forward in a seeming attempt to reach the captain, who was lying crumpled on the floor. Apparently, she had been thrown against the doorframe by the force of the blast.

Grabbing Torres’ arm, Chakotay pulled her behind him, leading her around the bar toward the back door. As he moved, he glanced back briefly, his eyes searching the chaos behind him. Smoke was filling the room, making his eyes water, but for a second, he thought he spotted Tuvok near the captain. A moment later, however, several men crashed through, blocking his view. When he could see again, he caught a glimpse of someone grasping the Vulcan’s arms, dragging his limp body toward the front entrance. The thought flashed through Chakotay’s mind that Tuvok must have been trampled. Peering more closely into the increasing smoke, he could just make out the captain, still lying in the same spot, alone.

For a split second, he froze, then pushed Torres in front of him, yelling at her to go ahead, he would follow in a minute. She started to protest but he gave her a hard shove, propelling her forward into the crowd struggling frantically to get out.

Turning around, Chakotay fought his way through the throng until he reached a clear spot. From there, he could see the flames snaking across the floor, perilously close to the captain. Quickly, he dashed across the room and scooped her up, then threw her over his shoulder, before turning to follow the last few stragglers.

With the fire licking at his heels, he scrambled frantically between overturned tables and chairs, some of which were already starting to burn. Diving around the bar, he hurtled out the open door behind it and into the black night.

From out of the darkness, Torres appeared, clutching his arm in a grip of steel as she nearly dragged him down the narrow alley. “There’s Starfleet all over the place! Come this way,” she hissed in his ear. “We have to get back to the ship.” As they started to race away from the burning building, she realized there was no one behind him. “Where’s Tuvok?” she managed to gasp.

“I don’t know,” he panted. “I think he got trampled because I saw someone pulling him out the front door. He wasn’t there when I left and I was the last one out alive.”

She didn’t bother to reply, knowing that Tuvok was quite capable of looking after himself.

Running as fast as they dared, they dodged through a maze of dimly lit narrow roads and lanes until eventually they reached a wider street. Here was a scene of mass confusion with people dashing back and forth, demanding information or shouting out the latest rumours.

“B’Elanna!” yelled Chakotay. “Stop here.”

At first, Torres seemed not to hear but with a sharp tug, Chakotay got her attention. Her eyes widened as she finally noticed the unconscious figure draped over his shoulder, but before she could speak, he was hailing the Liberty.

“Chakotay to Liberty! Two for emergency beamout.”

In the chaos surrounding them, no one noticed when, a moment later, they disappeared in a transporter beam. 

“Chakotay!” exclaimed B’Elanna as they rematerialized on the Liberty. “What the hell are you doing?! Kidnapping a Starfleet officer? A captain, no less,” she added, spotting the four pips on Janeway’s collar. “You’ve gone crazy! What’s gotten into you?”

Although he was wondering himself what he’d been thinking, Chakotay wasn’t about to admit to anyone that he’d acted on impulse. “If I hadn’t picked her up, she would have burned to death. You were there, B’Elanna, you saw how fast that fire was spreading. And I certainly couldn’t leave her in the middle of the road in all that uproar. Most likely she would have been run over by someone within five minutes.”

Shaking her head, B’Elanna realized there was no point in pursuing Chakotay’s motives. Instead, she cut to the chase. “What are you going to do with her?”

“Right now, I’m going to put her in my cabin until she regains consciousness.” As he spoke, he turned on his heel and headed into the corridor. “Get below, B’Ela, I want to try to find Tuvok and then break orbit immediately. There’s nothing for us here.” He glanced at his burden. “We can take her to Bajor and leave her there where she’ll be looked after.” Hesitating a moment, he added diffidently, “In the meantime, it might be better if you didn’t mention she’s aboard – I don’t want anyone here upset by her presence.”

Torres gave him a very hard stare before nodding, as she correctly interpreted his request. There were some among the crew who had good cause to hate the Federation, and no telling what they might do if they found a Starfleet officer aboard. “Sure, Chakotay, I’ll keep quiet.”

“Thanks.” He hurried down the empty corridor to the turbolift, grateful that no one was around. His luck held and he managed to gain his quarters without anyone seeing him. After depositing Janeway carefully on his bed, he headed for the bridge and contacted the transporter room. “Dalby,” he ordered, “locate Tuvok’s communicator and beam it aboard. Hopefully, he’s still got it on him.”

However, a minute later, Dalby reported that the communicator had arrived by itself.

Damn! In the chaos on the planet below, it could well take days to locate the Vulcan. Cardassian warships were known to pay regular visits here, hunting for Maquis – he didn’t dare wait and risk capture of his ship. For a moment longer, he sat still, weighing all the factors before coming to a decision. He would have to abandon Tuvok and hope he survived. Taking the helm, he opened intraship communications. “All hands, we’re breaking orbit and heading for Bajor.”

His announcement was met with loud cheers. Most Bajorans were sympathetic to the Maquis and a stop there would allow the crew to rest for a little while and put aside the war.

A few minutes later, the Liberty slipped out of orbit at impulse, hoping to escape detection by whatever enemies might be lurking nearby. However, within half an hour, sensors were picking up the warp signature of a Cardassian warship on a parallel heading.

“Are they aware of us?” asked Chakotay anxiously.

There was a moment’s silence before Ayala, replacing the missing Tuvok at the science station, replied. “Looks like it. They’re altering course to intercept.”

“How long?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe a little more.” Ayala’s voice remained steady. The Liberty had faced this threat many times before and so far, had always managed to survive.

Biting his lip, Chakotay contemplated his options. They’d have to make a run for it – the question was where? Bringing up the navigational charts on his console, he examined their position. _With a little luck, we could make it to the Badlands,_ he thought. A further moment of study confirmed his analysis. _There’s nothing closer that will effectively shield us._

Abruptly, he made his decision. “All hands, this is Chakotay. We’ve picked up a Cardassian warship on an intercept course. I’m afraid our little jaunt to Bajor will have to wait. We’ll head to the Badlands and hope we can make it before they catch up with us. Chakotay out.”

A moment later, he paged engineering. “B’Elanna, I’m going to need every scrap of power you can feed to the engines. We’ll have to run at maximum warp in order to have any chance at all of escape.”

“Okay, Chakotay, we’ll do our best. I’m shutting down everything but essential systems, weapons and shields. Torres out.”

Even before she finished speaking, Chakotay’s hands were dancing across the console. The Liberty leaped to warp, then rapidly increased speed to maximum in a desperate attempt to outrun the Cardassians.

Apparently, their maneuver caught their enemy by surprise, as it was nearly thirty seconds before the warship engaged its warp drive.

But then, the chase was on.

Desperately, Chakotay pushed his small ship as hard as he dared, but the Cardassians steadily gained on him.

“Torres to bridge!” came B’Elanna’s desperate shout after nearly an hour. “Chakotay, the core is redlining; it’s going to overload very soon if we don’t slow down.”

“Can you hold it together just a little longer? We’re nearly there.”

Before she could answer, the entire vessel shook as a phaser shot impacted the shields. Seconds later, a second and then a third struck, causing one of the consoles to suddenly spark and short out.

“Aft shields are starting to fail,” reported Ayala. “One more hit there and we’ll lose them.”

“I can see the edge of the Badlands,” announced Chakotay. “If we can just hang on…a few minutes more….”

A mighty bang shook the bridge as the Liberty abruptly fell out of warp.

“What happened?” shouted Chakotay. “Engineering…!”

“Aft shields are gone,” reported Ayala.

“We’ve lost warp drive,” B’Elanna shouted at the same time. “I’m trying to stabilize the impulse engines….”

Throwing the Liberty into a steep dive that strained the inertial dampers, Chakotay struggled to push the ship closer to the safety of the plasma storms.

A phaser bolt shot past the port bow, just missing the hull.

Pulling up out of the dive, Chakotay weaved and dodged this way and that, trying every maneuver he knew to hold off the Cardassians. One more shot, and the Liberty and her crew would be so much space dust. By some miracle, he was able to continue to evade a direct hit, although several shots came very close, just grazing the ship and nearly sending her spinning out of control.

“B’Elanna!” he yelled into the comm system. “I’m losing impulse…”

Before she could reply, Ayala called out. “Entering the Badlands. Watch where you’re going, Chakotay, there’s a storm right in front of us.”

As he finished speaking, Chakotay dove for the nearest plasma field, jerking the ship to the side at the last minute, barely avoiding a snaking tendril of deadly energy.

Now powered solely by thrusters, the Liberty flew deeper into the storm, while behind them, the Cardassians fired one last desperate shot. But instead of hitting the fleeing ship, it ignited a stream of plasma, which enveloped the warship, causing it to explode.

With a heartfelt sigh of relief, Chakotay slid the little ship out of the plasma field and away from the storm. For the moment, they were safe.

“Bridge to Engineering.”

“Torres here, Chakotay. I trust that you’ve finished trying to demolish the engines, for now anyway.”

Chuckling at her sarcasm, he replied. “For the moment, B’Ela. So how are they doing?”

“Warp drive is down until we can get to a base; I haven’t got the parts we need to repair it. I’m trying to bring impulse back online but it’s going to take close to an hour. So, don’t cross warp trails with any more Cardassians in the near future, okay?”

“Okay, B’Elanna, I promise. We’re heading for the main base now. The sooner impulse is up and running, the sooner we’ll get there.”

“Understood. Torres out.”

Standing up to stretch tense muscles, Chakotay suddenly remembered their passenger. In all the commotion accompanying their flight from the Cardassians, he’d completely forgotten about the Starfleet captain currently ensconced in his quarters.

“Mike, take the con,” he ordered abruptly. “I’m going below for a while.”

“Sure,” replied Ayala, moving to the helm.

Before checking on the captain, however, Chakotay decided he should make a quick tour of the Liberty. His people were well used to making repairs on the run, but he’d learned long ago that a word of encouragement here and there worked wonders for their morale. However, his tour took more time than he’d anticipated.

The various repair teams all had specific problems to be addressed; in addition, Torres went into a detailed explanation about why it was taking longer than expected to bring the engines back online.

As a result, it was close to an hour before he was finally able to return to his quarters. When he opened the door, he discovered the captain, still unconscious, lying where he’d left her on his bed.

Her face seemed somewhat flushed and she moaned softly as she tossed her head restlessly.

Concerned, he scanned her with the tricorder. Sure enough, she had a severe concussion, maybe some brain damage as well, although without a medical tricorder, he couldn’t be sure. Dampening a soft cloth, he carefully wiped her face and hands, before loosening her clothing and pulling off her boots.

Again, she groaned, louder this time, her body twisting as her hands gripped the blanket covering the bed.

“Easy, Captain,” murmured Chakotay, hoping the sound of his voice might calm her. “Don’t toss about so much. You’re safe here, no one will harm you. Just relax and take it easy.”

Over and over, he repeated the words until gradually she began to quiet, her fingers relaxing their grip as her body settled into a more natural sleep.

Relieved, he pulled the blanket over her, before sitting down in the only chair and stretching out his legs. His eyes methodically examined her features, noting the firm chin, aristocratic cheekbones, and thin-lipped mouth. Slowly, his gaze swept over her slim form under the blanket – she certainly wasn’t very big. But then he remembered her voice, ringing with authority in the bar. She might be a small woman, but there was nothing small about her personality – ‘forceful’ would best describe the brief glimpse he’d had before the grenade exploded.

His mind wandered a bit, recalling the strange pull he’d felt towards her when he realized she was staring at him. Well aware that a captain, even one in the Maquis, should avoid entanglements with his crew, he was usually quite reserved around women, B’Elanna being the sole exception. Never had he behaved as aggressively as he’d been about to do in the bar. Shaking his head in wonder at his own odd behaviour, he returned his gaze to the woman before him. What was it about her? Why had he felt so drawn to her almost the instant he saw her? He didn’t know. And really, he told himself, the whole idea was downright foolish. _She’s a Starfleet captain,_ he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. _She doesn’t have any use for me beyond putting me in her brig. I have to let go of this…whatever it is. I have to let go of her._

That thought caused so much anguish as to become almost a physical pain. _I can’t! I can’t let her go. I need her!_ Growing agitated, he clenched his fists, muttering aloud. “What is the matter with me? It’s as if she’s bewitched me!” 

His thoughts churning around in his head, he sat there for quite some time before the captain started to toss and turn once more. This time, his voice appeared to have no effect on her. Worried, he debated what to do. Kurt Bendera was the ship’s so-called medic, although his skills were quite rudimentary. Nevertheless, he knew more than Chakotay.

Moving to the comm panel, he paged him. “Chakotay to Bendera.”

After a few seconds, Bendera replied, in a slightly muffled tone. “I’m here, Chakotay, what do you need?”

“Can you come to my quarters?”

“Sure, be right there. Bendera out.”

Within five minutes, Kurt was at the door. “So, what did you want to see me about….?” His voice trailed off as he stepped into the cabin and spotted the occupant of the bed. For a moment, he stared in astonishment before turning to Chakotay. “Who’s this?!”

“She’s a Starfleet captain – ”

Chakotay got no further before Bendera interrupted him. “Are you crazy?! What’s she doing here? Did you kidnap her?”

“Of course not!” retorted Chakotay disgustedly. “I carried her out of that bar on Badrin before she burned to death. When the grenade exploded, she was thrown against something, maybe the wall, and knocked out. I think Tuvok tried to get to her, but it looked as if he got trampled before he could reach her. I could hardly see anything in the smoke but I’m pretty sure I saw someone dragging him toward the door. Anyhow, I couldn’t just leave her there to burn, so I went back and got her.”

Bendera looked unconvinced. “Why didn’t you put her down somewhere outside, where Starfleet could find her?”

Chakotay grimaced. “You weren’t there, Kurt. It was mass confusion with people running all over the place, screaming hysterically. She would have been trampled within seconds, before anyone could find her. And we didn’t have time to look for a safer spot or we would have been captured ourselves.” His voice softened as he looked at the unconscious woman. “I had to do something quickly – it seemed that bringing her here was the best solution. I thought we could get her to Bajor and leave her there, but that alternative’s gone.” Taking a deep breath, he glanced up. “I’m worried about her, Kurt, she doesn’t look good at all.” For a moment, he fell silent before continuing. “And there’s the crew as well. Some of them aren’t going to take kindly to the fact we have a Starfleet captain on board, no matter how badly injured she is. I’m afraid, at the very least, they’ll want to hold her for ransom.”

Kurt’s eyes were focused on his friend, hearing what Chakotay wasn’t saying. Many of the crew hated the Federation just as much as Cardassia – they might well demand that, as a Starfleet officer, she should be tried and executed for supposed Federation crimes against their home worlds. They certainly wouldn’t accept her presence in Chakotay’s quarters.

“Well, let’s see how she is first.” Kurt reached for the tricorder and carefully scanned the unconscious woman. When he finished, he looked up, his expression resigned. “It doesn’t look good, man. She’s got a bad concussion and probably some kind of brain injury as well. Her heart rate is fluctuating and her pulse is thready. I don’t think she’s going to make it.” His eyes returned to study her face. “Too bad – she looks like an interesting woman. Pretty, too.”

Following Bendera’s gaze, Chakotay nodded before frowning in concentration.

Watching the change of expressions on his friend’s face, Kurt began to get a very nasty feeling. “Hey man, you’re not going to do something stupid, are you?”

But Chakotay’s attention was focused on the captain and he didn’t answer.

Getting no reply, Bendera got to his feet and walked out.

Staring down at the bed, Chakotay didn’t even hear him leave or the door close behind him. His entire attention was centered on the woman before him as he wondered what he was going to do.

* * *

Early the following morning, the Liberty finally reached the planetoid where the Maquis base was located.

Having stayed up all night with the Starfleet captain, Chakotay was feeling very tired and looking forward to a bit of downtime. However, as soon as the ship had settled into orbit, he received a message from one of the other captains that a meeting was scheduled almost immediately to hear about the Liberty’s most recent foray as well as plan the next raid. Following a quick meal, he beamed down to the main base, a series of natural caves which had been enlarged to use both as a base of operations for the Maquis as well as a repair depot of sorts for their overworked ships.

Unfortunately, he had to report that the supply of weapons he’d hoped to find on Badrin had actually led to a Starfleet trap, which he and Torres had barely escaped. Unsure of how the news of a Starfleet captain in their midst would be received, Chakotay decided to remain silent about her presence on his ship. There was no way of knowing whether the other captains might decide to forcibly remove her from his ship and hold her hostage. Since most of his own crew had remained unaware of her presence, he didn’t think it likely anyone else would discover her, in the short term, anyway.

As he had been unable to procure any arms, with the present acute shortage of weapons, the captains found themselves unable to devise any kind of plan for attack. Very quickly, the meeting turned into a discussion on ways and means of acquiring armaments as well as other supplies. After a lengthy debate, it was agreed to suspend raiding for the time being until ships could be repaired and a new source of weapons discovered.

Exhausted, Chakotay returned to the Liberty at the conclusion of the meeting and headed immediately to engineering to tell Torres that, for once, she had time to make as many repairs as she could find parts for.

Grinning in anticipation, she promised that by the time she’d finished, he wouldn’t recognize his ship.

“Do whatever you like, B’Elanna,” he declared wearily, “as long as she can outrun the Cardassians, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll have her running rings around any Galor-class warship,” boasted Torres, “you’ll see.” Her voice dropped. “Have you decided what to do about the captain?”

His brow furrowed as he shook his head. “No, I’m going to check on her now.”

“You can’t keep her a secret indefinitely, Chakotay.”

“I know, B’Ela,” he sighed, his voice close to cracking with exhaustion. “I know.” Turning, he moved toward the door, his gait much slower than his usual brisk step.

Biting her lip, B’Elanna watched him with concern until the door slid closed behind him. However, she knew there was nothing she could do to help. Best to get to work on the ship – the sooner the Liberty was in fighting trim once more, the better for all of them.

Trudging into his quarters, Chakotay moved to the captain’s side, studying her face carefully. A tricorder scan confirmed his suspicions – she was definitely worse. “I can’t do anything for you here,” he muttered to her in frustration, “we don’t have the equipment, medicines, not even a proper medical tricorder. But, if I don’t find a way to help you, you’ll die. What am I going to do?”

Her eyelids fluttered weakly and she moaned; for a moment, he thought she was regaining consciousness, but her eyes stayed closed.

“I don’t even know your name and yet, I feel such a bond with you, such a connection,” he continued aloud. “How can that be? Somehow, it seems as if I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. And you sensed it, too, I know you did, I could see it on your face. For one moment, there was no Starfleet, no Maquis, just us.” Reaching down, he gently stroked her cheek. “I wish…I wish we had met under different circumstances.”

Again, she groaned softly, as though in pain.

“Easy now,” he soothed. “Try to relax.”

As it had the day before, his voice seemed to calm her, as her head settled into the pillow. However, within minutes, she was moaning again, twisting in obvious discomfort, and this time Chakotay couldn’t quiet her down.

“What do I do, Captain? I can’t let you die.” He sighed heavily, knowing deep down that only one course of action would save her life. Rising to his feet, he moved to the comm panel on the wall.

“Chakotay to Torres.”

“Torres here.”

“There are several old shuttles down at the base. Find the oldest one and prepare it for launch. Since we’re stuck here, I might as well do a little reconnaissance.”

For several seconds, there was silence on the comm line before she replied. “Chakotay, does this have something to do with…?”

He cut her off abruptly. “Just do it, B’Elanna.”

Again, she hesitated briefly. “Sure, Chakotay. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

“Thanks. Chakotay out.”

* * *

It was nearly an hour later before B’Elanna paged him to announce the shuttle was ready.

Chakotay had done everything he could to prepare the captain for their journey, collecting a full hypospray and making sure the modified tricorder was attached to his belt. Wrapping a blanket around her, he picked her up carefully, then, to avoid being seen, asked Torres for a site-to-site transport to the shuttle. Moments later, together with his burden, he dissolved in the transporter beam.

As he moved to the front of the small vessel, the captain stirred, apparently roused by the motion. Her eyes slowly opened and she turned her head, obviously trying to determine where she was. “What’s going on?” she whispered weakly, her voice hoarse. “Where am I?”

“Easy, Captain,” replied Chakotay, “you were badly hurt in the bar on Badrin. I’m trying to get you to a place where your injuries can be tended.” As he settled her into the copilot’s seat, he continued soothingly. “Don’t worry, no one’s going to harm you.”

Even in a whisper, her voice rang with authority as she demanded answers. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

He continued to secure her in the chair as he answered. “I’ll explain everything in a few minutes, but let’s get underway first, okay?” His eyes slid to hers and he held her gaze, trying to project confidence and trust.

After a moment, she nodded slightly, and leaned back into her seat.

Quickly taking his own seat, Chakotay powered up the engine, then hailed the Liberty. “Chakotay to Ayala.”

“Ayala here.”

“I’m going out to look around for a bit, Mike. You have the bridge until I get back. And tell Torres I expect her to be finished by the time I return.”

There was a chuckle in reply. “Sure, Chakotay, I’ll tell her. Otherwise, she’ll be tinkering with those engines for the next year.”

He answered with a chuckle of his own. “You got it, Mike. See you in a day or so. Chakotay out.”

As he cut the comm link, he lifted off from the base and engaged impulse drive. In seconds, he was clear of the planetoid and setting a course for Bajor. Turning to face the captain, he opened his mouth to start explaining the situation before realizing she had lapsed into unconsciousness once more. Sighing, he faced forward, hoping she would be able to hold on until he could get her to a doctor and proper medical care.

* * *

Two days later, Chakotay approached Deep Space Nine.

Originally, he had planned to take the captain to a hospital on Bajor. However, since the planet was still recovering from fifty years of Cardassian occupation, the medical facilities there were somewhat rudimentary. Since they’d left the Badlands, her condition had gradually worsened to the point where he knew he’d have to bring her to a Starfleet medical facility, even though the risk of capture would increase considerably.

Twice during their journey, she’d regained consciousness for brief periods. Each time, he’d given her a bit of water, enough to ease her thirst, but no more than that. As well, the second time, he was able to carry on a short conversation with her, long enough to reassure her that he was seeking help and to learn that her name was Kathryn Janeway.

“My mission was to capture you and as many of your crew as we could,” she chuckled sardonically, “but it ended up the other way around. You captured me.”

Chakotay had laughed at that, but before he could retort in kind, her eyes slid closed and she faded back into unconsciousness again.

“Hang on, Kathryn Janeway,” he muttered desperately. “Just hang on until I can get you there.”

Now, as he neared the station hanging in the blackness of space, he debated the best method of approach. There were several moons nearby, he noticed. Perhaps, he could hide the shuttle in the shadow of one of them until a larger vessel appeared. Then, he could slide in behind it, tucked in its wake until he was close enough to beam Janeway onto the station.

Time was of the essence, however – he couldn’t wait long.

Luckily, soon after he placed his little ship close to the nearest moon, a big freighter appeared. Slipping out from concealment, he flew the shuttle directly underneath the larger ship so he was screened by its sensor shadow. As they neared the station, he was able to scan the interior until he located the infirmary. Quickly, he slid out of his seat and unfastened Janeway from hers, then laid her down on the floor of the shuttle.

Diving back into his chair, he set the coordinates and locked onto her. Moments later, she disappeared in the transporter beam. _Time to go,_ he told himself. He could do no more for her.

As the freighter prepared to dock, he slipped away, dodging around one pylon and below another before heading back to his hiding spot. After several minutes, with no signs of pursuit, he breathed a sigh of relief and set a course for the far side of Bajor.

On arrival, he waited until dark before landing the shuttle in a secluded area where there were few inhabitants. After cutting power and darkening all lights, he remained inside watching for nearly half an hour until he was sure no one had followed him. Only then did he open the hatch and step outside, breathing deeply, filling his lungs with fresh air.

For several minutes, he wandered around the shuttle, checking the hull, then set a perimeter alarm and pulled out a bedroll. Tonight, he would sleep in the open, as he had so often during his boyhood on Dorvan Five.

* * *

For nearly a full day, Chakotay remained where he’d landed, enjoying the feel of solid ground under his feet. By late afternoon, he was reminding himself that he should be heading back to the Badlands; his crew would be concerned at his continued absence.

_And what about Kathryn Janeway?_ whispered his treacherous heart. _You know you want to find out what’s happened to her._

_No,_ declared his head firmly. _You’ve done all you can for her. It’s time to go. Now!_

_But don’t you want to know how she is? Shouldn’t you at least see if she’s still alive?!_

His heart won. Succumbing to temptation, praying he wasn’t making a huge mistake, he decided to detour by Deep Space Nine first on his way back to the Maquis. Hopefully, the gods of chance would be kind and not let him be caught.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the space station, Doctor Bashir, the chief medical officer, had been very startled by the sudden appearance in his infirmary of an unknown Starfleet captain, unconscious and obviously gravely ill. Quickly, he alerted Commander Sisko, the senior Starfleet officer on Deep Space Nine, of his unexpected patient before setting about to examine her. By the time Sisko and Odo, the chief of security, hurried in a few minutes later, he was able to give them a preliminary report.

“This woman has suffered a serious head injury,” began Bashir. “From what I’ve been able to discover so far, it occurred several days ago, perhaps even a week. As to who she is, or where she came from, I don’t know. However, since it would appear she is a Starfleet officer, a DNA scan should establish her identity.”

“That won’t be necessary, Doctor, I know she is,” replied Sisko sadly. “Her name is Kathryn Janeway. She stopped here briefly two weeks ago.” Glancing at Odo, he continued. “She’s the captain of Voyager.”

Although her identity meant nothing to Bashir, it obviously did to Odo. Moving closer to the biobed, he examined the captain closely, before stepping back again and addressing Bashir. “Besides the injury to her head, has she suffered any other injuries?” he asked abruptly.

“Not really,” replied the doctor. “There are some faded bruises around her left ribcage and hip, as if she’d fallen hard, but other than those – nothing. Why do you ask?”

For a moment, Odo remained silent. “We have reason to believe she was abducted by the Maquis. She was involved in an operation on Badrin to capture the renegade Chakotay, but the bar where she led a security team was fire-bombed just after they entered. In the confusion, she disappeared, and despite exhaustive searches, no trace of her could be found. The only conclusion her crew could come to was that the Maquis had taken her, possibly as a hostage.” His eyes returned speculatively to Janeway. “But that would now appear to be erroneous.”

“Based on what you’ve learned so far, Doctor,” cut in Sisko, “what’s your prognosis?”

“Well, at the moment, it’s hard to say. I’ve managed to stabilize her condition but I’ll need to run several tests before I can make a definite diagnosis. Look at it this way, Commander, she’s still alive, and considering the extent of her injury, that’s something of a miracle in itself.” His face softened. “Whether or not she was abducted by the Maquis, whoever brought her here has saved her life. Without treatment, she wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

Staring down at the biobed, Sisko pondered the facts. “We need to discover how she got here. That’s the first thing. Maybe then, we’ll be able to figure out the rest of the story.” He turned to Odo. “Constable, work with Dax. I want a report as soon as possible. I’ve got a hunch that whoever brought her here is going to come back to check on her, and if they do….” His voice trailed off.

“You think it was a Maquis?” Bashir was surprised.

“I think it’s a good possibility. She certainly didn’t get here by herself, did she?”

“No,” replied the doctor. “There’s no way she would have been able to pilot any sort of craft herself.”

“Then someone else did and I want to know who it is.” Sisko began to turn for the door, then paused. “And Doctor, I want to be informed as soon as she regains consciousness. Understood?”

“Aye, sir.” Bashir was already bending over his patient.

“She should have an interesting story to tell, don’t you think, Constable?” remarked Sisko, as he and Odo left the infirmary.

“Indeed.” Odo glanced back briefly. “And hopefully, we’ll hear it soon. However, in the meantime, I’ll get to work on learning how she arrived.”

* * *

Several hours later, Doctor Bashir straightened from his hunched position over the biobed where Janeway lay. Stretching his arms, he tried to work the kinks out of his back and shoulders. It had been delicate work, rebuilding several of her neural pathways and repairing the damage caused by the impact of her head on something very hard, possibly a wall or floor. However, he was satisfied that she would make a full recovery, thanks in no small part to her mysterious benefactor who had delivered her to the station. “You’re a lucky lady, Captain,” he muttered as he checked the diagnostic panel behind the biobed. “Another hour and it would have been too late. I wonder if you know who it was….”

Moving to his desk to begin his log, he remembered to contact Sisko. “She’ll be fine, Commander,” he reported in a pleased tone. “Although how much she’ll remember, I don’t know. From the gravity of her injury, I expect she was unconscious most of the time from the moment she suffered it.”

“Understood, Doctor, and thank you,” replied Sisko. “And you’ll call me when she wakes.”

“Certainly, sir, but that won’t be for some time yet. She’s sleeping now and I have no intention of rousing her.” Bashir’s tone was firm.

“Very well. Sisko out.”

Just as the connection broke, the commander’s combadge chirped again. “Odo to Sisko. I think we’ve found something.”

“On my way.”

Quickly, Sisko rounded his desk, heading out the door and down the steps into the ops centre where Dax and Odo were examining a still image taken from a security system mounted on an upper pylon. As he approached, Dax stepped back to allow him room to see.

“If you look here,” began Odo, pointing to a dark shadow barely visible in the larger shadow of one of the lower pylons, “you can see what would appear to be a small vessel, such as a shuttle. The time frame places it just about exactly when Captain Janeway appeared in the infirmary.”

Sisko frowned. “Can you enhance the image?”

“Not very much,” replied Dax. “Whether intentionally or not, the pilot was able to avoid being seen by every other camera on the station. This was the only one that picked up the ship at all.”

Studying the indistinct image more closely, Sisko was momentarily silent before answering. “It’s the sort of flying a Maquis pilot would do, isn’t it?”

“That thought did cross our minds,” replied Dax.

Straightening up, Sisko turned to face the other two. “I want you to keep a sharp eye peeled for anything suspicious, whether it’s a small ship or someone coming from Bajor who seems a little odd. Anything!”

Dax nodded and turned to her console.

“I’ll alert my people,” promised Odo, “and make sure they run extra checks of every stranger arriving on the station.”

“Very good, Constable,” replied Sisko. “I’ll be in my office.”

* * *

Shortly after lunch the following day, Doctor Bashir was able to page Commander Sisko to inform him Captain Janeway was awake and anxious to see him.

Hurriedly, Sisko made his way to the infirmary; maybe now, he would finally get some answers. He arrived to find the captain not only conscious but eager to be released from Bashir’s care.

Janeway might be small physically, but as Bashir was quickly discovering, she had a forceful personality and a will of iron. “I’m fine, Doctor,” she informed him firmly. “You’ve done a wonderful job patching me up, for which I’m very grateful, but now I want to leave. Surely there must be guest quarters I could use until my ship can come for me.”

Grinning, Sisko moved forward, interrupting them. “I think we can find you something, Captain, as soon as the good doctor says you may go.” He quirked an eyebrow at Bashir.

The doctor conceded the captain could be released to rest in quarters. “But no work of any kind,” he added firmly, “or else you’ll find yourself right back here – behind a forcefield, if necessary.”

Now that she knew she was escaping, Janeway was all smiles. “I assure you, Doctor, I will follow your instructions to the letter,” she promised.

“Very well. But I’ll be along later this evening to see how you’re doing and I want you back here tomorrow morning for a complete checkup. And if, at any time, you get a headache, even a slight twinge, you’re to return immediately. I mean it, Captain.”

“Yessir!” She saluted cheerfully, before sliding off the biobed. “Where can I get dressed?”

Bashir handed over her uniform before indicating a change room nearby.

When she reappeared, she thanked him again before taking Sisko’s arm. “Well, Commander, lead the way.”

As they walked slowly down the corridor to the turbolift, Sisko began the conversation casually. “I’m glad you’ve made such a quick recovery, Captain Janeway. The doctor was very concerned when you first arrived in such an…unusual fashion, you might say.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh? And what sort of fashion was that, Commander Sisko?”

“You appeared in the infirmary, seemingly out of nowhere. Obviously, you were transported from somewhere, but we have been unable to definitely confirm what ship brought you here. Would you be able to shed any light on that?”

Frowning, Janeway gazed at the floor in concentration. “I don’t remember very much,” she began in response, “mostly disconnected images.”

Entering the lift, Sisko called for the deck containing guest quarters. In a moment, the door opened to show a long corridor in front of them, gradually curving out of sight.

Taking a deep breath, Janeway grasped Sisko’s arm a bit tighter.

“Are you all right?” he asked in concern, realizing she might not be as recovered as she’d seemed in the infirmary.

“I’m fine,” she replied automatically, before adding with a small grimace. “But I’ll be glad to sit down.”

Stopping before a door, he keyed in a code. “Here we are then.” He ushered her inside and got her settled on a couch before moving to the replicator. “Can I get you anything?”

“A cup of coffee would be wonderful!” she replied fervently. “And maybe a glass of water as well. I’m feeling a bit lightheaded.”

Bringing both items to the table beside the couch, he paused, unsure whether he should continue his questions, before deciding he could easily come back later. “I’m going to leave you now, Captain,” he announced. “I hope you’ll get some rest as the doctor suggested. I want to talk to you some more about your experiences; if you’re up to it, perhaps you could join my son and me for dinner this evening.”

“Thank you, Commander, that is most kind of you. However, if you don’t mind, could I have a rain check? Don’t tell the doctor, but I’m feeling rather tired right now, and I think I’d like to rest for a while. Could we make it tomorrow night instead?”

“Of course. In the meantime, if there’s anything you need that you can’t get from the replicator, please contact me at once.”

Reaching for the water, Janeway nodded. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

When Sisko had gone, she sipped slowly at the glass of water, reflecting on all she could remember of events since the disastrous raid on Badrin. She had been telling the truth when she said she didn’t recall very much. Indeed, the only clear memory she had was on the shuttle talking to Chakotay, when he’d explained he was bringing her here for medical treatment.

Something in Sisko’s eyes had alerted her to the fact that his questions were far less innocuous than they seemed. There had been an intensity there out of all proportion to his casual tone of voice. She remembered hearing how, a year earlier, Sisko had been betrayed by one of his oldest friends, Commander Cal Hudson, who had actually been working for the Maquis. Sisko would have no love for members of the resistance, she was sure, especially those who had formerly served in Starfleet. Chakotay’s good deed in bringing her here would probably count for very little in Sisko’s estimation.

At the thought of the Maquis captain, she lay back against the cushions, reflecting on the strange connection between them. She was a practical woman, a scientist, not given to overpowering emotional experiences. Her few love affairs had been conducted sensibly, with a certain degree of comfort on both sides. She’d never been one to be swept off her feet…. So, what had happened on Badrin? Why had she been so drawn to this man as soon as she saw him? None of it made any sense, and yet she couldn’t deny what she felt. From the moment her eyes met his, she’d known he was destined to become a part of her life.

Sighing, she pondered her conundrum. She was a Starfleet officer, duty bound to uphold the laws of the Federation, not to fall in love with one of its enemies. Putting down the glass, she picked up the coffee cup, inhaling the scent of good, strong Colombian brew, letting the fumes soothe her tired brain. Somehow, before dinner tomorrow night, she’d have to decide just how much she was going to tell Commander Sisko.

* * *

While Captain Janeway puzzled over her mixed emotions, Chakotay was working his way back to Deep Space Nine. Having flown his shuttle to an auxiliary spaceport where the authorities were known to be sympathetic to the Maquis, he’d left it there and taken public transport to the main spaceport which serviced the space station. Along the way, he acquired some cheap goods as well as a large cloak, all designed to make him appear to be an itinerant trader, the sort of nondescript person who could be found all over the Alpha Quadrant. As well, he’d picked up a jar of concealing makeup, which served to effectively hide his tattoo.

A DNA scan would reveal his true identity at once; however, he was counting on losing himself in the hordes of peddlers and travelers that moved constantly back and forth to the station. With any luck, he could slip through security, discover Janeway’s location, see for himself that she was all right and be gone before anyone else was aware he was there. That the captain herself might betray him never crossed his mind, and if it had, he would have dismissed it at once. There was a deep and immutable bond between them that transcended any considerations of duty – he knew he would be safe with her.

His plan worked just as he’d hoped and by the day following Janeway’s release to guest quarters, Chakotay was on board the daily transport to the station. Crowded in between several others, similarly attired, he remained silent as conversation flowed back and forth in a desultory manner over his head.

When he heard the announcement of their impending arrival, he made sure to stick close to a group preparing to disembark together.

He felt a gentle bump as the ship docked, followed by the rumble of the two airlocks opening. Rising to his feet, he stumbled slightly as the crowd pushed forward. As he followed the others onto the station, several security officers stopped each person to wave an electronic wand over them, obviously searching for weapons. Chakotay thanked his lucky stars he’d left his phaser behind.

“What’s your business here?” demanded the officer closest to him.

“I’m with them,” replied Chakotay submissively, gesturing to the group ahead of him. “We’re trying to see what we can trade….” Letting his voice trail off, he hoped the officer wouldn’t ask more specific questions. As he paused, the man behind bumped into him, obviously pushed forward by the burgeoning crowd still coming off the transport.

The officer glanced at him once more, then nodded. “Away you go, then.”

Quickly, Chakotay caught up to the group ahead of him, then, at the first opportunity, slipped aside. A quick check of a public directory showed him the location of the infirmary. Wasting no time, he hurried directly to it, but on arrival, was disappointed to find it empty. For a moment, he paused, trying to decide how he might learn Janeway’s location. Had she left already? Or, his throat caught, had she died?! No, he would have known, he was sure of it.

While he stood hesitantly in the open doorway, a Starfleet officer suddenly appeared in front of him. “Hello, I’m Doctor Bashir. Is there something I can help you with?”

Desperately, Chakotay tried to think of some plausible excuse. “I, uh, no, I was just looking for a friend of mine, but obviously sh…he isn’t here. I thought he’d been injured in a bar fight last night, but I guess I was mistaken.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I was kind of drunk at the time, so it’s all a bit hazy.”

Suddenly intent, Bashir peered at him closely, but Chakotay held his ground, careful to keep his expression rather stupid. The doctor nodded and glanced behind him at the biobeds. “Well, as you can see, the place is empty. And no one was in here last night, either. Maybe your friend treated himself. Do you know where he’s staying? What’s his name?” Bashir accessed a roster of the occupants of guest quarters, then looked around expectantly.

Moving forward to stand beside him, Chakotay squinted at the list carefully. There she was – Janeway, K. Quickly, he noted the cabin number, then peered myopically at every name before shaking his head. “His name is Darma Tran but I don’t see it there. I thought he was going to stay here for several more days but maybe he went back to Bajor.” Sidling towards the door, he mumbled, “Thanks, Doc, guess I made a trip for nothing.”

Bashir was already turning away. “No problem. Hope you find him.”

“Yeah.” A minute later, Chakotay was out the door, shuffling down the hall to the main promenade. He continued to maintain the pretense of an itinerant loafer until he was sure no one was watching, then slid behind a large pillar before heading for the nearest turbolift.

Moments later, he was standing outside Janeway’s quarters.

* * *

Inside, Kathryn was propped against one of the viewports, staring vacantly into space as she tried yet again to recall her time with the Maquis. She had told Commander Sisko the truth when she said she remembered very little. Really, the only clear memories she had were two brief conversations with Chakotay on the shuttle, when he had tried to reassure her that he was seeking help. She could definitely identify her benefactor, but other than that, she knew nothing. And yet, a gut feeling told her that even that scrap of information might prove dangerous to him.

While still trying to make up her mind, the door chime sounded in the stillness, startling her. “It’s probably the doctor, checking up on me,” she muttered to the empty room, as she turned around, calling for the door to open.

However, instead of Doctor Bashir, a large, cloaked figure stood in the entrance. “Don’t be afraid,” came a male voice from the depths of a hood pulled forward. “I won’t hurt you.”

By the time the voice had stopped speaking, Kathryn had recognized it. “Chakotay!” she whispered, horrified. Quickly, she hurried forward to grasp the edge of his cloak and pull him in, allowing the door to slide closed. “What are you doing here?!”

Tossing back the hood, he gazed down at her, drinking in her features. “I had to find out how you were,” he explained. “I couldn’t leave until I knew if you were all right.” His eyes were riveted to hers, until she felt herself drowning in his stare.

“I’m fine, thanks to you,” she replied softly. “You saved my life. I don’t know how I can ever repay you….” Her voice wavered as she saw him dismiss her words.

“You’re alive,” he murmured, “that’s repayment enough.” Moving a step forward, his hands came up to grasp her arms. “I feel so drawn to you, and I don’t understand why.”

Kathryn’s hands slid over his chest. “I feel the same. From the moment I saw you in that bar on Badrin, I’ve felt such an incredible connection to you. It makes no sense, and yet, it’s too powerful to dismiss.”

Chakotay bent his head, letting his mouth hover just above hers. “Perhaps you’re an enchantress because it feels like you’ve cast some sort of spell over me.”

“If that’s true,” whispered Kathryn against his lips, “then you’re as much of an enchanter as I am.”

Closing the last gap between them, his lips brushed across hers very lightly, just the merest caress.

Moaning deep in her throat, she stretched up enough to deepen the kiss just as the door chime sounded again.

Gasping in surprise, they remained still for a second, staring at each other in consternation, before Chakotay gently loosened his hold. “You have to answer it,” he smiled ruefully.

Eyes huge, she stared at him in trepidation. “I don’t want to,” came her desperate reply.

Turning her towards the door, he gave her a little push, as the chime rang again. “But you have to,” he repeated.

With a sigh, she straightened, stiffening her spine. “Enter.”

The door slid open to reveal Commander Sisko, Odo and several security officers.

“Sorry to disturb you, Captain,” began Sisko. “DNA scans indicate there’s a Maquis rebel named Chakotay on the station. I became concerned for your safety in case he was the one who brought you here. With your permission, I’d like to search your quarters.”

Although Sisko’s tone remained respectful, there was no question in his listeners’ minds that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Whether Janeway liked it or not, her quarters would be searched.

Chakotay stepped forward from the entrance to the bedroom. “There’s no need to bother the captain further. I’ll give myself up. She doesn’t know who I am,” he continued, using her horrified gasp to try to convince Sisko she had no knowledge of his presence. By the skeptical look on the other’s face, he suspected he wasn’t very successful.

The commander stared at him intently. “Are you the person who brought her here?” At Chakotay’s nod, Sisko continued. “Why did you come back?”

“I wanted to know if she had recovered from her injuries,” he shrugged.

“You must have known coming here could well cost you your freedom.”

“I knew.”

Glancing at Odo, Sisko gave the order. “Arrest him.”

Reluctantly, Odo stepped forward. “Hold out your hands, please.” As he snapped on restraints, he intoned. “Captain Chakotay, I hereby place you under arrest for crimes against an ally of the Federation, namely Cardassia.”

Although up to that moment, she’d made no sound, at his words, Kathryn couldn’t suppress a small gasp of horror.

Turning his head, Chakotay smiled sadly at her, then moved to follow Odo and the others into the corridor.

A moment later, the door slid closed, leaving Janeway alone once more.


	2. Part 2: September 2376

Sitting on a bench outside the main entrance to the detention facility in New Zealand, Kathryn Janeway presented a deceptively placid appearance. Inside, she was a seething mass of tension. After nearly five long, sometimes difficult years, she was about to see Chakotay again. _Would the old feelings still be there? Would he want to see her? Would he even remember her? Well, the last was easy to answer – she didn’t think it very likely he would have forgotten the circumstances of his arrest! But…how much would he have changed? As much as she had?_

So much had happened to her, to everyone in the Federation, and indeed the entire Quadrant. She didn’t know if Chakotay was even aware of the momentous events which had occurred while he languished in prison. Did he know of the war with the Dominion, the war which the Federation had very nearly lost? Had he been told of the Maquis massacre in 2373, which had left only him and a few others surviving out of the thousands who’d fought in the rebellion? Did he know she was alive?

In an effort to keep herself distracted and away from questions she couldn’t answer, she cast her mind back over the intervening years, to a point in time some two months after his arrest and her return to Earth.

 **Late 2371** :

Captain Janeway strode across the great plaza of Starfleet Headquarters, her face cast in lines of determination. She was on her way to a meeting with Admiral Owen Paris, a meeting where, hopefully, she would finally get some answers. Since returning home, she’d been on a medical leave of absence, even though she had completely recovered from her injuries weeks ago. To her every request for information on her ship and when she might return to command, Starfleet had responded with vague, unsatisfactory answers.

“Be patient, Captain,” advised the commander in the Personnel Office, whom she’d dealt with most often. “There are a few problems which need to be ironed out, some questions which Command wants answered first. It won’t be much longer.”

When she’d replied in exasperation that she’d been far more patient with Starfleet than anyone else in her entire life, the commander had soothed her concerns, telling her not to worry. “It’s just the formalities,” he’d explained. “Everything has to be done in the proper order, after all.”

However, despite his assurances, nothing happened. Day after day had gone by with no word from Command. Finally, after another unproductive conversation with Personnel, in which she had barely hung on to her temper, she’d contacted Admiral Paris with a plea for help. Maybe she couldn’t get any answers, but she was damned sure Owen Paris could!

After hearing her tale of woe, he’d promised to look into her situation right away and let her know. Two days later, he summoned her to Headquarters.

Entering the main building, she took the turbolift to the fiftieth floor where the senior admirals had their offices. Upon her arrival, the aide, who knew her well, sent her right in. “He’s expecting you, Captain.” Her welcoming reception encouraged Kathryn to think that maybe the whole mess was just ‘formalities’ after all. However, when she entered the inner office, the admiral’s face told quite a different story.

Set in grim lines, he watched her walk across to his desk, and stand at ease. “You better sit down, Katie,” he suggested in a tone that told her he had bad news.

Her heart sank into her boots but she kept her expression even. The admiral might be her old friend as well as her mentor, but he was still a senior officer and as such, expected a certain demeanor and level of respect from those of lower rank. Taking a chair, she sat carefully, her eyes never leaving his face.

Normally a bluff man, Paris was uncharacteristically hesitant. Rising from his chair, he paced across the room to the window, then back again, before settling to perch on the front edge of his desk. “There’s no easy way to say this, Katie, so I’ll just say it,” he began bluntly. “You’re not getting back your command.”

Shock overwhelmed her to the point where, for a moment, she couldn’t speak. Finally, she forced out one word. “Why?!”

“Your loyalty to the Federation has been called into question.” He continued on, waving her silent as she started to protest. “There is some concern in the upper echelons of Command” – Kathryn knew he meant the admiralty – “that you have been…‘contaminated’…by the Maquis.”

“But…but that’s absurd!” Kathryn was on her feet, her hands clenched into fists. “How can anyone say that? For gods’ sake, Admiral, I was unconscious nearly the whole time I was in their hands! How can they possibly have contaminated me?”

Again, Paris waved her silent. “I realize that, and that’s the argument I presented. Nevertheless, the suspicion has been raised and these days, Katie, sometimes that’s all it takes. In your own best interests, I would advise you not to raise a fuss, but to sit tight until it all blows over. It may take a while, but eventually you’ll get another command.”

“But I don’t want another command!” she cried out in anguish. “I want Voyager!”

He shook his head sadly. “Forget her, Katie, she’s gone. You’ll never get her again.”

Collapsing into the chair in defeat, Kathryn turned away, desperately fighting back sudden tears. Her ship, her beautiful ship, that she’d been so proud of! Lost because of some stupid fool who had read a report and promptly jumped to the wrong conclusion. Bowing her head, she bit her lip hard. She would not break down, no matter how much it hurt, she would not lose her composure.

Paris was continuing to speak. “Keep your head down, Katie, and don’t rock the boat. Otherwise, you may lose a lot more than your ship.”

Aghast at his words, her head snapped up as she stared at him in horror, her tears forgotten. “But it makes no sense.”

“Just…do as I say,” he advised, “and don’t ask difficult questions. With any luck, you’ll be able to salvage your career.”

Moving back behind his desk, he nodded to her, indicating the interview was at an end.

Stunned, she rose unsteadily to her feet, somehow muttering a few words of thanks before stumbling out the door. Her mind was in chaos and she found her way outside purely by rote, her feet moving automatically. Staring around blankly, she wandered into the gardens, then plunked herself down on the first bench she came to. Through her head ran the mantra over and over, _It makes no sense!_ Finally, as the sun began to set and the breeze became chilly, she stood and walked to the nearest transporter. A few moments later, she was home.

* * *

For several days, Kathryn pondered her situation as well as Owen Paris’ words. Mechanically, she went through the motions of living, trying to understand Starfleet’s reasoning, at the same time mulling over her options.

Why anyone in Starfleet would question her loyalty to the Federation, she didn’t know. Obviously, there was no evidence of any kind, otherwise by now, she would have been stripped of her rank and arrested. But someone was suspicious, and that suspicion, flimsy as it was, was enough to derail her career, temporarily anyway. She had been debating whether to attend Chakotay’s trial, which was just getting underway in a civilian courtroom amid a blaze of publicity, but under the circumstances, she decided she should stay away. It would only make matters worse if she should be seen taking any kind of interest in him.

The second question was what to do. Should she follow the admiral’s advice, swallow her pride and accept Starfleet’s unspoken censure, in the hope that someday she would be allowed to command a ship again? Or should she demand to be exonerated of a crime she’d never committed?

Round and round went the thoughts in her brain but she could find no easy answers. Aware that her mother was worrying about her, she finally sat down one night after dinner and told her the whole story, then asked for advice.

Gretchen remained silent as Kathryn talked, then regarded her solemnly once she finished. “I raised you to know the difference between right and wrong, Katie,” she declared. “It’s up to you to decide.”

Gazing thoughtfully at her mother, Kathryn pursed her lips together as she acknowledged what, deep down, she’d known all along – what Starfleet was doing was wrong. Her mind clear for the first time in days, she got to her feet. “Thanks, Mom,” she murmured as she gave her a quick hug, “I think I’ll go to bed now. I expect it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

“Have you decided what to do?” asked Gretchen.

“Yes,” replied Kathryn firmly, “I have. I’m going to Headquarters to get this sorted out once and for all.”

* * *

Early the following morning, Kathryn presented herself at the office of Admiral Hayes, who was in charge of the Personnel division, to make a formal complaint about her treatment.

The reaction was swift and merciless.

Within an hour, she was called before a hastily convened tribunal of two admirals and a fellow captain, who informed her that her competency had been called into question. Despite her vehement protests and demands for proof, she was immediately declared unfit for duty.

Outraged at being so summarily dismissed and unable to believe the cold-blooded viciousness of the attack on her, she demanded an interview with the Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Herr’d. Surely, the admiral, who had a reputation for being a hard but fair taskmaster, would put a stop to what was fast becoming a witch hunt.

Her hopes would prove to be in vain.

The admiral gazed at her with undisguised contempt. “A Maquis was found in your quarters on Deep Space Nine, Captain Janeway. Since you made no effort to call for security, it must be assumed you are in league with them, or, at the very least, a sympathizer. We have no use for such as you in Starfleet. You may either resign your commission, effective immediately, or face arrest on charges of treason and collaborating with the enemy.”

Her face white with fury, Kathryn was too shocked to respond.

The C-in-C continued. “In my opinion, Starfleet is being more than generous in allowing you to resign. May I add that should you opt to stand trial, the resulting publicity will permanently tarnish not only your name, but your father’s as well. In your family’s interest, I suggest you leave quietly.”

Finally finding her voice, she responded in a growl which vibrated with rage. “You won’t have to make good on that threat, Admiral.” Reaching up, she tugged at her rank pins, yanking them off one by one and tossing them onto his desk, to be followed a second later by her communicator. “I want no part of an organization that treats its people with so much disdain!” Spinning on her heel, she stalked out the door, head high.

By the time she arrived home to face her anxious mother, however, her anger had dissolved into sorrow. Breaking down, she cried broken-heartedly over the loss of everything she had worked so hard for. “My whole life,” she sobbed, “all I ever wanted was to be like Daddy, to follow in his footsteps. And now, it’s gone, all of it. Oh, Mom, how could this happen?!”

Unable to answer, Gretchen did her best to console her. “This isn’t the Starfleet your father belonged to, Katie,” she told her. “It’s changed almost beyond recognition. I know if he were alive, he would say the same thing. You don’t want to be a part of something that feeds on paranoia and suspicion, and neither would he. You may not think so right now, but in fact, you’re well out of it.”

Although Kathryn was still too upset to really take in Gretchen’s words, over the next few days she began to believe she was right.

A week later, there came a morning when she was able to greet her mother with a smile and tell her that there was a certain freedom in having no commitments any more. “I can do whatever I like,” she expounded happily.

“And what would that be?” inquired Gretchen, vastly relieved that dear Katie was finally accepting her new circumstances.

Her daughter stared dreamily into the middle distance. “I don’t know yet.”

* * *

While Kathryn pondered her options, Chakotay’s trial was progressing quickly. Since he had, in fact, committed several crimes against the Federation – stealing supplies and, on one occasion, a shuttle – he agreed to plead guilty to those charges. Given his willingness to cooperate, his lawyer, Mark Samuels, suggested a plea bargain.

To Chakotay, it sounded distasteful but when Samuels explained the ramifications, he became more agreeable to the idea. “What it means,” explained Samuels, “is that in return for entering a guilty plea to certain charges, the prosecution will agree to drop other charges, thereby reducing the amount of time you spend in prison. It’s not only fair, but it saves the justice system time and credits. Look on it as a reward for cooperating with the authorities.”

“What about the charge of terrorism against an ally of the Federation?” asked Chakotay, knowing that could well develop into a real sticking point.

The lawyer pursed his lips, then stated. “Leave that to me for now. I don’t have to tell you that there are more than just charges of theft involved here; politics are being played on a high level. The Cardassians want to throw the book at you; in fact, their ambassador has been making very public demands that you be handed over to them. As you can imagine, that has outraged many people. The Maquis have gained a lot of sympathy among ordinary citizens, to the point that the Federation Council has been trying to put a damper on the backlash. Like it or not, Chakotay, you have become something of a _cause celebre_. I don’t think you need to be concerned about extradition to Cardassia.”

Breathing a sigh of relief – he had been worried about that possibility – Chakotay asked what was likely to happen if he agreed to the plea bargain.

“Depending on what arrangement I reach with the prosecutors,” replied Samuels, “you will spend time in prison, but I would think no more than five or six years.”

Letting his breath out in a whoosh, Chakotay sat back in his chair. Five or six years incarcerated in a prison cell, never feeling the grass beneath his feet or seeing more than a bit of sky, not able to walk for miles across the land or hear the wind blow. Since joining the Maquis, he’d always known the possibility of capture was there, but to have it spelled out so succinctly…. Kathryn’s face swam briefly before his eyes and he bowed his head, trying to force it to the back of his mind. It would do no good to mourn her; five or six years behind maximum security bars meant it was unlikely he’d ever see her again. Lifting his eyes to face the lawyer, he straightened his shoulders. “Do it.”

* * *

Two days later, the news media reported that the Maquis rebel, Chakotay, had pleaded guilty to six counts of stealing Federation property but that five other charges, including one of terrorism against an ally of the Federation, had been dropped. Formal sentencing would occur in two days time.

It was Gretchen who just happened to see the brief item on the newsvids and brought it to Kathryn’s attention.

Staring at the picture of Chakotay on the screen, as the announcer gave a brief synopsis of his career both in Starfleet and the Maquis, Kathryn suddenly felt she had to be there. Her Starfleet career was over – she no longer had anything to lose by not attending. Abruptly, she activated the online news feed, scrolling through until she found the location of the trial. She would go. After all, considering he had been captured because of her, it was the least she could do.

Two days later, simply dressed in a plain skirt and blouse with her hair pulled back, Kathryn stood in the courtroom where Chakotay was about to hear his sentence. Due to the large number of onlookers as well as the considerable crowd of media, she had been unable to get a seat, and had been forced to settle for a vantage point at the very back of the room, just inside the door. From her position, she could barely make out the top of Chakotay’s head between the shoulders of the guards standing between him and the public gallery.

Her heart went out to him – if he hadn’t come back to Deep Space Nine out of concern for her, he would still be free, fighting with the Maquis against their enemies. That thought led to another – his crew…what had happened to them? Surely, they must know by now that he’d been captured. Had they joined another ship? Were they still alive? Seized by a sudden idea, Kathryn wondered if perhaps there might be a way to repay Chakotay for what he had done for her.

Suddenly, she saw his head tilt slightly, as if sensing something. A second later, he turned around as far as he could, his eyes searching the crowd behind. Seeing him look back, Kathryn stretched up on her toes as far as she could but it wasn’t enough – his gaze passed over her. A moment later, he’d turned to face forward again as the judge began to deliver the verdict.

“Chakotay, you have pleaded guilty to six counts of property theft. The remaining charges, of terrorism against an ally of the Federation as well as four other counts of property theft, have been dropped for lack of evidence. Therefore, I sentence you to one year on each count, to be served consecutively, for a total of six years in the maximum security wing of the penal settlement in New Zealand. The time which you have already spent in custody will be counted towards your sentence.” With a bang, the judge brought down his gavel. “Case concluded.”

The crowd began to surge forward, all wanting to see the defendant’s reaction. Carried with them, Kathryn had all she could do to remain on her feet and not be trampled. By the time she reached the front of the courtroom, Chakotay was long gone, whisked away by the guards before anyone could get near him. His lawyer, Mark Samuels, was just packing up the last of his PADDs when Kathryn approached him.

“Excuse me,” she began, then repeated herself more loudly when he didn’t look up. “Excuse me!”

At the authoritative voice demanding his attention, Samuels glanced up into the concerned face of a very attractive woman. Despite her simple clothing and petite stature, there was something compelling about her. Dropping his briefcase, he straightened up. “Yes?”

“My name is Kathryn Janeway,” she began. “I met your client briefly several months ago.”

Samuels’ eyebrows went up at that. “Did you now?” His gaze swept over her. “You don’t look like a Maquis,” he stated bluntly.

Her face flushed slightly, but she held her ground. “I’m not. At the time, I was a captain in Starfleet….”

She got no further as his expression changed to one of comprehension. “Ahhh, you’re the captain he rescued….”

“Yes,” she replied, pushing forward. “I have two questions, sir, I hope you can answer for me. First of all, will Chakotay have to serve his full sentence without any chance for early release?”

Pausing to consider her query, Samuels was silent for several seconds. “It is normal practice both to allow a prisoner time off for good behaviour as well as a chance for parole after one half of the sentence has been served. However, I have it via the grapevine that parole will not be an option in this case.”

“But the time off for good behaviour?” persisted Kathryn. “Would Chakotay qualify for that?”

“I would say there’s a distinct possibility, yes.” Again, he paused, then added quickly. “Bear in mind that I don’t have any authority for saying that, it’s simply common practice. If a court decides he should serve his full sentence before being freed, then that’s what will happen – subject to appeal, of course. Although,” he muttered half to himself, “I don’t think that’s too likely to happen.”

“How much time do you think his sentence might be reduced by?”

Samuels shrugged. “It’s hard to say, every case is different, but I would expect a year anyway. And bear in mind, the judge did specify that the time he has spent in custody up to now will count towards his sentence. So, it’s already been shortened by two and a half months.”

“I see.” Kathryn pondered his words.

After a moment, he prodded her. “You said you had a second question?”

“Yes. Can you tell me what happened to his crew?”

The lawyer stared at her incredulously. Of all the queries he was expecting, that certainly wasn’t one of them. “His crew?! I have no idea. What about them?”

Kathryn persisted. “Do you know their whereabouts, what might have become of them?”

“No! Of course not! Why would I know anything about them?” Clearly, he thought she was deranged.

“I hoped you might have learned….” Kathryn hesitated. “Obviously, I was mistaken. Thank you for taking the time to speak to me. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

Turning on her heel, she walked slowly out of the courtroom on the heels of the crowd.

For a moment longer, Samuels stared after her in confusion, before shaking his head and picking up his briefcase. By the time he’d made his way out the back door, he’d forgotten all about her.

For her part, Kathryn found her way home by rote, her mind millions of miles away near the Badlands. That was where they would most likely be, she told herself, and somehow, she was going to find them and make sure they were all right. A captain was responsible for the well-being of his crew; since their own captain couldn’t fulfill that charge, she would.

* * *

Abruptly, Kathryn was jerked back to the present as the main door of the prison opened. So far, a number of people had gone in, but this was the first time someone had come out. Leaning forward eagerly, she waited to see who it was. A moment later, she sat back, disappointed – it was only a young woman, probably a relative of one of the prisoners or a civilian who worked there. She knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up – after all, Chakotay’s release wasn’t scheduled for almost an hour yet. “You always were too impatient,” she chastised herself firmly. Trying to relax again, she focused on recalling the years from the time of Chakotay’s sentencing to the present. What years they had been!

* * *

**Early 2372:**

Calling in whatever favours she could, Kathryn made her way to Deep Space Nine, convinced that there was the best place to start her search. Upon arrival, she immediately ran into Odo at the docking port.

It took him only a minute to recall her face from her previous sojourn on the station. “Captain Janeway,” he stated, looking her over in some surprise. “You’re out of uniform, aren’t you?”

Suddenly unsure of her reception, she replied as easily as she could. “Perhaps you haven’t heard – I’ve retired from Starfleet.”

His surprise increased at her words. “Really? No, I hadn’t heard, but then news from Earth can take a long time to get here. Is this a recent…retirement?”

Kathryn’s expression set in hard lines as her eyes took on a steely glint. “Yes,” she replied briefly. “Is that a problem for you?”

At her reaction, Odo backed down – he’d only been toying with her, curious to see how she would react, and he certainly had his answer now. “No, it is not.”

“Good,” she answered briefly as she made to step past him.

However, he continued to block her way. “I do need to hear what your business is on the station, Ms. Janeway. We don’t get many civilians from Earth this far out.”

For a second, Kathryn debated how much to tell him. The Maquis were certainly a sore subject for Commander Sisko, but she had no idea if Odo held similar views. Deciding that the truth would probably serve her best, she looked him straight in the eye. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk? Quite frankly, it has been a long and exhausting trip, and this is not a subject I can discuss easily in a public place.”

Intrigued, Odo nodded. “Certainly, we can talk in my office.”

Nodding, Kathryn bent to pick up her bag, but Odo reached to take it from her, then turned to lead the way down the corridor. In a few minutes, she was settled in a comfortable chair in his office, with a steaming cup of coffee reposing on the desk in front of her. As Odo watched, she picked up the cup, wrapping her hands around it as she savoured the aroma before sipping carefully. “Thank you,” she spoke with real gratitude. “That transport’s replicators made terrible coffee – I actually had to switch to tea!”

Although he smiled slightly, Odo remained silent, clearly waiting for her to begin.

“Do you know about Chakotay’s trial and the sentence he received?” asked Kathryn abruptly. At his nod, she went on. “I was there the day he was sentenced. And it occurred to me then to wonder whether his crew was even aware of what had happened to him. That thought led to an idea.” Leaning forward, she placed her hands on the desk, as her voice gained intensity. “One of the most important responsibilities a captain has is to look after his crew. In a way, they’re even more important than the ship. Chakotay had no opportunity to make arrangements for his crew, to send them to another ship. As far as they know, he simply went off in a shuttle one day and never came back.”

At that point, Odo interrupted. “Such things do happen out here, Ms. Janeway, with distressing regularity. We live in a dangerous region of space, where occasionally, people disappear.”

“Very true, but in this case, we do know what happened.” Pausing, she debated how best to make her argument. “I want to find his crew. I want them to know that he is alive, although imprisoned for the next six years, and more importantly, I want to make sure that they’re all right. You see, Chakotay was caught because of me. If he hadn’t returned here to check on whether I’d recovered, he would still be free. I feel responsible for what happened and this is a way of paying him back for his concern. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Her eyes focused on him hopefully, as her mouth tightened with worry. This was the sticking point. If Odo believed her, he could set the wheels in motion and make her task much easier. If he didn’t, he had the authority to pack her back to Earth on the next available ship. For nearly a minute, Kathryn held her breath, praying that she’d gotten through to him.

After a moment, he nodded and relaxed in his chair. “What would you like me to do?”

Letting out a heartfelt sigh of relief, Kathryn knew she’d overcome the biggest hurdle. “I’m sure your information on the whereabouts of the Maquis is much more up-to-date than anything I could find out on Earth. Have you heard anything about Chakotay’s crew? Can you suggest where I might start to look for them? Anything you can tell me would be most helpful.”

Pursing his lips in thought, Odo frowned, obviously examining several options. Suddenly, he rose to his feet, extending a hand toward the door. “Come with me. I think we need to talk to Major Kira. And, perhaps, someone else.”

Gulping down the last of her coffee, Kathryn followed him into the corridor. “Who is Major Kira?” she managed to ask, as she trotted beside him.

“The major is the senior Bajoran representative on Deep Space Nine. At one time, she was also a freedom fighter. While she doesn’t have direct access to the Maquis, it’s possible she knows of people who do. This may be a long and somewhat convoluted process, Ms. Janeway, I hope you’re prepared for that. The Maquis are wily, and very careful about whom they trust.”

“I expected as much. And I’m in no hurry.”

“Good. Ahh, here we are.” Odo led Kathryn into a bar and over to a table against one wall. As he did so, he tapped his combadge. “Odo to Kira.”

“Kira here.”

“If you have a moment, Major, could you join me at Quark’s? There’s someone here who wishes to meet you.”

Silence reigned for a few seconds – obviously the major was trying to puzzle out his meaning. Giving it up, she replied. “Sure, I can be there in a few minutes. Kira out.”

Pulling out a chair, Odo gestured to Kathryn to sit down, then settled opposite her. At her puzzled expression, he explained. “I realize a bar is an odd place for a meeting, but I have a reason.” Glancing up, he spoke to the Ferengi approaching their table. “Quark, this is Kathryn Janeway. She has a problem and needs some advice. Why don’t you join us?”

In the manner typical of his race, as he took a chair, Quark’s eyes ran over Kathryn knowingly, obviously sizing her up. “You’re aware that my advice usually comes with a price tag.” Although his comment was directed to Odo, his eyes never left Kathryn.

In response to his open evaluation, her back stiffened and her chin came up defiantly as she gave him a hard glare in return. No one stared at her that way and got away with it.

At the evident steel in her gaze, Quark backed down, shifting around to look at the door, where a woman in Bajoran uniform was just walking in. “Major!” he called out in evident relief.

A moment later, Kira had made her way to their table, her eyes also focused on Kathryn. This time, however, Kathryn didn’t feel as if her skin were crawling. Sitting down in the fourth chair, Kira glanced around. “What’s this all about, Odo?” she asked.

In response, Odo explained. “This is Kathryn Janeway, formerly of Starfleet, now retired. She has a story to tell and a request to make of us. I thought you should hear what she has to say.” Sitting back, he looked at Kathryn, obviously waiting for her to begin.

Once more, she launched into her tale, abbreviating it here and there in order to reach the core of her argument more quickly. “…and so you see,” she finished up, “I need to know where I can find Chakotay’s crew. Will you help me?”

As Kathryn’s story unfolded, Kira’s eyes softened in sympathy. Although only the odd hint had been dropped, there was no doubt in her mind that she was hearing a love story. However, she had to dash Kathryn’s hopes. “I would help if I could, Ms. Janeway, but I’m afraid there’s not much I can tell you.” She hesitated, glancing around, before dropping her voice. “You see, Commander Sisko’s views on the Maquis are well known, both here and on Bajor. I suspect that any sympathizers are careful to keep what knowledge they have well away from my ears. They would know that I can’t compromise my position, or my government’s, with the Federation by withholding information. Beyond suggesting a few obvious places, such as Badrin for example, I’m afraid I don’t have anything to tell you.”

Kathryn’s face fell as she listened to Kira. Of course, she thought, she should have realized that where the Maquis were concerned, the Bajorans were walking something of a tightrope with the Federation.

Kira got to her feet, then catching Kathryn’s eye, jerked her head towards Quark before striding to the exit.

The Ferengi also started to get up until Odo laid a hand on his arm. “Sit down, Quark. I believe you mentioned you might have some advice for Ms. Janeway here.” Although Odo phrased his words politely, his tone left no doubt that Quark wasn’t going anywhere.

Grimacing, the Ferengi resumed his seat. “This is going to cost me, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I think that’s a very negative viewpoint,” responded Odo, his tone bordering on sarcasm. “Why don’t you look on it as…a ‘random act of kindness’?”

Quark’s expression was scandalized. “Kindness?! No Ferengi worth his lobes is ever kind!”

“Then why don’t you be the exception to the rule, hmm?” Again, Odo’s voice held just the slightest hint of a threat, but apparently it was enough.

Yielding to the inevitable, Quark turned to Kathryn. “There have been several rumours around the bar, and I stress they are only rumours, that the Liberty’s crew split up at some point after the arrest of her captain. I can’t say for sure what happened – you understand it’s all just speculation – but a couple of times I overheard someone mention that some had apparently joined other ships, while others had simply disappeared. Quite frankly, I think you’ve set yourself an impossible task, Ms. Janeway. Trying to find them now….” Spreading his hands wide, he shrugged his shoulders.

Kathryn sighed. “I didn’t expect this to be a cakewalk, Mr. Quark,” she responded firmly. “I’m a determined woman and I don’t give up easily. I’ll find them eventually – it may just take longer than I’d hoped.” Leaning forward, she fixed her gaze on him. “Can you give me any leads at all, any suggestions where they might be? At this point, anything would help.”

Scratching one of his lobes thoughtfully, Quark pondered her question, obviously debating how much he should tell her. Finally, when Odo cleared his throat loudly, he spoke up. “First of all, you didn’t hear any of this from me, understand?” At Kathryn’s nod, he continued. “Rumour has it that there’s a big Maquis base on the far side of the Badlands, in the Terikof belt. It may not be there now, as they move constantly, but it was a month ago. How you find it, I don’t know. Your best bet would probably be to go to Badrin and wait until a Maquis ship shows up. One will eventually – it’s become their best source of supplies these days. Or there’s Fahleena, which is in the same general area. From what I’ve heard lately, it’s becoming as much of a trading post as Badrin.” He sat back in his chair. “That’s the best I can do.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Kathryn sat back as well. “Thank you, I appreciate very much your telling me this. It gives me a place to start.”

Getting to his feet, Quark returned to his place behind the bar.

At the same time, Odo also stood up. “I think we’ve learned as much as we’re going to here. Let’s go back to my office and see what ships are heading towards the vicinity of Badrin.”

Rising as well, Kathryn followed him out of the bar, then strolled beside him through the Promenade, taking time now to look around. The area was filled with small shops and stalls, manned by every conceivable variation of humanoid she could imagine. In one corner, she even spotted a Cardassian inside what appeared to be a clothing store. Shaking her head in wonder, she smiled, feeling more relaxed than she would have thought possible when she first arrived on the station.

Beside her, Odo remained silent as they walked, although he watched her surreptitiously. For no reason he cared to name, he’d taken an interest in this woman; like Kira, he’d detected a love story and while he’d never admit it, Odo had a romantic streak. The idea of her searching for the abandoned crew of her rescuer, who had been imprisoned because of her, appealed to his chivalrous side. He recalled how reluctant he’d been to arrest the Maquis captain, although he’d had no choice. Perhaps, by aiding Janeway, he could make up in some small way for that act.

When they reached his office, he ushered her inside, then called up a list of freighters that might be heading towards Badrin. “Now, let’s see what we can find out,” he began as he turned the monitor so she could read it as well. “Here’s the list….”

* * *

By June, Kathryn had fruitlessly searched nearly every system along the Cardassian border, from the Badlands to Dorvan Five, but Chakotay’s crew was nowhere to be found. Several times she had come close to intercepting Maquis ships, but each time, they disappeared before she could make contact. Eventually, although as yet unwilling to concede defeat, she returned to Badrin, in the faint hope she might have better luck the second time around.

Although she was skeptical it would lead anywhere, a chance conversation she’d overheard on the last ship she’d been on led her to a particular bar, which she had overlooked on her previous visit. She wouldn’t get her hopes up, she promised herself wearily as she walked in, she’d just get something cold to drink and look around. As she dropped her bag beside the counter before placing her order, a Ferengi trader sat down on the next stool and attempted to pick her up. Tired, frustrated and generally fed up, she let him have it when he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

What Kathryn didn’t realize was that the Ferengi had a female bodyguard, a veritable amazon of a woman, who effortlessly intercepted Kathryn’s attempt to throw the Ferengi out of the bar. Grabbing her by the hair, the amazon lifted her right off the floor, then turned to fling her against the wall as hard as she could.

A Klingon, who happened to be sitting in the way, took the full force of her weight. Leaping to his feet, he snarled a challenge to the p’takh who had dared to attack him. He never even saw Kathryn lying on the floor as he leaped for the amazon’s throat.

Within seconds, the entire bar had erupted in a maelstrom of fists flying and feet kicking with reckless abandon, as everyone charged into whoever was closest to them.

One man, a middle-aged human, moved to where Kathryn lay dazed at the side of the room, and knelt down beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Gasping for breath, unable to speak, she could only nod.

“Right,” he replied, reaching for her hands. “I think we should get you out of here before this becomes serious.”

Again, she nodded, accepting the stranger’s assistance as they carefully worked their way out of the bar. Once outside, she straightened up, wiping a hand over her mouth. “Thanks,” she offered, “I think I would have had a real problem if you hadn’t been there.”

“Always glad to help a lady in distress,” he answered with a grin. Sticking out his hand, he went on. “My name’s Kurt Bendera. Can I ask what you were doing in there? It’s not the sort of place for someone like you.”

Kathryn’s jaw dropped in shock, as she stared at the man. “Wh…what…were you on the Liberty? With Chakotay?”

Now it was his turn to stare. “Yes, I was,” he replied slowly after a minute. “Wait a minute, you’re the Starfleet captain! The one who caused all the trouble and got Chakotay captured.” Nostrils flaring, he scowled at her, eyes flashing with anger. “Is that what you’re doing here? On another mission hunting down Maquis? Where’s your security team? I don’t see them.”

Desperately, she tried to interrupt his tirade, which was starting to attract attention. Several passersby had stopped to watch and find out what was going on. “Please, listen to me!” she begged. “I’m alone, there’s no one with me. I’m not even in Starfleet anymore. Please…just listen!”

Glancing around, Bendera became aware of the onlookers. Abruptly, he seized her hand, and dragged her down the road. Pulling her into a narrow alley between two buildings, he pushed her up against the wall. “Okay, lady, talk. But I’ll tell you right now, it better be good.”

Trying to gather her wits, Kathryn took a deep breath and began. “First of all, I’m no longer in Starfleet. Because of what happened on Deep Space Nine when Chakotay was arrested, I came under suspicion as a Maquis sympathizer. I was forced to resign my commission. Well, I wasn’t forced exactly – I left before Starfleet Command could cashier me.” Pausing, she peered up at Bendera, trying to gauge his reaction.

However, he merely nodded to her to continue.

“I was trying to make up my mind what to do with the rest of my life when I saw a newsvid that said Chakotay had pleaded guilty to several of the charges against him and was about to be sentenced; I decided I had to be there. While I was standing in the courtroom, my mind drifted – I remember thinking that if only he hadn’t come back to Deep Space Nine to find out if I had recovered from my injuries, he would still be free. Then, I began to wonder what had happened to his crew. I asked his lawyer but he had no idea, nor did anyone else. So, I went to Deep Space Nine, but no one there knew either. All they’d heard was a vague rumour that the Liberty’s crew had split up, that some had gone to other ships, but some had just disappeared.”

Stopping to take another deep breath, she was relieved to note that Bendera’s stance had relaxed slightly. “I was told that my best chance of contacting the Maquis was here, but I had no luck at all. So, I started working my way along the border, from one system to the next, but each time, I failed to find anyone who could tell me what had happened to the crew and I never did come across any Maquis. Eventually, I decided to come back here and try again. The rest you know.” Her eyes focused anxiously on his face, hoping he would accept her story.

Turning to pace slowly up and down the alley, Bendera pondered her tale. It was so absurd it was probably true. And since no one had appeared to back her up, it would appear she was telling the truth when she said she was alone. Spinning around suddenly, he came back to face her. “What was the name of the ship you traveled on from Deep Space Nine?”

Kathryn tried to drag the name out of her tired brain. There had been so many ships…. “I can’t recall the name of the ship,” she replied softly, “but I remember the captain, a woman. Her name was Kasidy…uh, Kasidy…Yates! That was it.”

“Did you ask her about looking for the Maquis?”

“Yes, she said she didn’t know herself, but I could probably find them here.” Kathryn chuckled wearily. “And I guess I did, didn’t I?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bendera silently thanked Kasidy Yates for keeping quiet about her knowledge of the Maquis. He peered down at the woman before him, suddenly noticing the drawn expression on her face. “Do you have a place to stay here?” he asked.

“No, I just got off a freighter from Prophet’s Landing. I overheard someone on the ship say the Maquis sometimes frequented that bar we were in, so I headed straight for it.”

Although his instincts were telling him he could trust her, Bendera was still not entirely convinced of her sincerity. “Let’s take a walk,” he said, “and you can tell me why you’re so anxious to find Chakotay’s crew.”

Trudging down the road, Kathryn explained her reasons in more detail. This man was the key, she was sure. Convince him and she would know the crew’s fate once and for all.

By the time they reached the shuttleport, she had finished her story – now it was up to him.

Casually strolling around between the various ships, Bendera remained silent, frowning slightly. Abruptly, he changed direction, leading her to an old, nondescript-looking vessel where he popped the hatch. “Come on in.”

Accepting his invitation, Kathryn walked inside and sat down in the copilot’s seat as he sealed the hatch and settled into the pilot’s chair. A moment later, when he started the engine, she asked, “Does this mean you believe me?”

Although he kept his eyes on the console, Bendera’s face broke into a smile. “I think that’s a safe assumption.”

“Thank you.”

She didn’t speak again until they were safely airborne, and Bendera had laid in the course. Once he’d put the shuttle on autopilot, she leaned forward to peer at the navigation console. “Can I ask where we’re going?”

“To a planet called Minkto. Don’t worry, it’s not far, only in the next system. We should be there in an hour or so.” He paused as a thought struck him. “You know something? All this time and I don’t even know your name.”

Kathryn stared at him in surprise before she remembered she’d only told Chakotay her name on the way to Deep Space Nine. It was about the only thing she did remember from her time with the Maquis. “I suppose you wouldn’t,” she answered softly. “It’s Kathryn Janeway.”

“Well, Kathryn Janeway, I was right about one thing. I told Chakotay you looked like an interesting woman and you certainly are.”

“I don’t remember you, but then I don’t remember anyone else from the Liberty either, except Chakotay. Tell me, how long was I with the Maquis?”

“Probably close to a week, all told. You were in pretty bad shape. To tell you the truth, I didn’t think you’d make it. I’m glad now to see I was wrong.”

“I’m tougher than I look, Mr. Bendera.”

He held up his hands in protest. “Please, it’s Kurt. Forget the Mister stuff. In fact, everyone goes by first names, so expect to be called Kathryn.”

Her face lit up with anticipation. “Are you taking me to the crew? Is that where we’re going?”

Smiling, he would only answer, “You’ll see.”

And with that she had to be content until they arrived at a very ordinary planet, one which looked just like a thousand others.

“Welcome to Minkto,” said Bendera, as he set the shuttle down fairly close to a few low structures grouped haphazardly together. Opening the hatch, he led her outside.

Several men and women, no more than half a dozen, approached them excitedly, shouting a greeting.

Kathryn peered beyond them, looking for more people, only to realize no one else was following. Stopping in shock, she turned to face Bendera. “But surely there must be more?! Where are the rest?”

Indicating the group approaching, he replied, “This is all that’s left of Chakotay’s crew. The rest are either gone or dead.”

“My god!” she breathed. “And the Liberty?”

He shook his head sadly. “Gone as well. A month after Chakotay disappeared, she was destroyed in a raid on a Cardassian ammunition depot.” He fell silent as the group of four men and two women approached them.

A young woman, her brow ridges indicating her Klingon heritage, stepped forward aggressively to confront Kathryn. “I recognize you,” she snarled angrily. “You’re that Starfleet captain who caused all the trouble in the first place. If Chakotay hadn’t felt he had to save your worthless life, we’d still be fighting Cardassians.”

Chuckling sardonically, Bendera murmured, “Kathryn Janeway, meet B’Elanna Torres, former engineer of the Liberty.”

By the angry mutters she was hearing from the others surrounding her, Kathryn knew they shared Torres’ opinion. Holding out her hands placatingly, she tried to explain. “I’m more sorry than you can imagine about what happened to Chakotay. If it’s any consolation, his arrest ruined my career as well. I’m not in Starfleet anymore.”

“So why are you here?” asked a tall, dark-haired man, his tone still uncompromising, but without the angry edge that Torres had displayed.

Taking a deep breath, Kathryn started to tell her story yet again. “I was present at Chakotay’s sentencing. And while I was standing there, I realized that no one had ever said what had happened to all of you. I asked his lawyer, but he brushed me off, saying he had more important things to worry about. Since resigning from Starfleet, I’d been trying to decide what to do with my life. It came to me then that if I could find all of you, find out how you were faring, see if you needed help of any kind, maybe I could repay some of the debt I owe him. He saved my life and because of his kindness, is now in prison. I was a captain; I know what it means to care for a crew, what that kind of responsibility entails. I thought this was something I could do for him.”

As she spoke, the atmosphere of suspicion which had hung over the meeting began to dissipate. Obviously, her intentions were sincere.

Bendera glanced around at his friends. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I believe she’s telling the truth.”

The dark-haired man nodded. “I do, too.” He addressed Kathryn directly. “Now that you’re here, what exactly do you have in mind?”

Relaxing her stance slightly as the hostility directed at her lessened, Kathryn began to explain her idea. “I have some credits saved up and I’m willing to entertain suggestions on how they might be used for the benefit of the group. As well, if you agree, I’d like to stay for a while and get to know you.” She gestured at the buildings behind them. “Is this your permanent home or are you simply waiting to join another crew?”

Again, it was Bendera, the de facto leader, who answered. “We’ve left the Maquis, Kathryn. A week or two after Chakotay disappeared, we began to hear a rumour that he’d been arrested, but no one knew whether or not it was true. Around the same time, another captain and her crew arrived at the base after an attempted raid during which their ship had been destroyed. At first, we didn’t realize what a witch she was. She acted all nice and sweet, trying to persuade us to join her crew. Quite a few of our people were taken in and did join up with her. The next thing we knew, she was telling the rest of us that since we were only half a crew with a ship but no captain, we should let her have the Liberty. We told her what she could do with that idea, but when we refused to turn over the ship, her crew attacked and ordered us either to leave or they’d phaser us. We couldn’t believe it! And wouldn’t you know?! That stupid captain went and lost the Liberty, too! Managed to get herself and her entire crew killed in the process. My god, that woman was an idiot!”

His face twisted in anger, Bendera paused for a moment to bring his emotions under control, before continuing in a calmer tone of voice. “We complained bitterly to whoever would listen, but no one was very interested. There’s no formal structure in the Maquis, you see, no one in authority, it’s pretty much everyone for themselves. In reality, there wasn’t much we could do except join another crew ourselves. That was what most of our people did but about a dozen of us decided to leave; we’d come to realize the Maquis are no better than the Federation or the Cardassians. I mean look how they screwed Chakotay after all he did for them. Loyalty means very little to them anymore.”

At a slight sound of protest from the dark-haired man, Bendera scowled. “It’s true, Mike, even though you still refuse to admit it.”

The other man shook his head. “Not all the Maquis are like that, Kurt. There are still those who believe in the rights and freedoms we were fighting for.”

The Klingon woman cut in. “Both of you, forget it. This argument got old a long time ago.”

Wanting to hear the rest of the story, Kathryn interjected, “What did you do?”

Unexpectedly, Bendera grinned mischievously. “When they weren’t looking, we ‘borrowed’ a couple of old shuttles and left the base. Eventually, we ended up here. But, after a while, about half the group, mostly Bajoran, decided they were wasting their time here and said they wanted to leave. After considerable discussion, we gave them a shuttle and wished them well. That was several months ago, and we’ve heard nothing since. We don’t know what happened to them, if they went back to the Badlands, or headed for Bajor, or….” His voice trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders.

“But you decided to stay?”

A fair-haired man, who so far had remained silent, took up the tale. “Yes. We wanted to wait somewhere safe until we found out what had happened to Chakotay. We knew he’d been arrested, but now you tell us he’s been tried and convicted. How many years did he get?”

“He was sentenced to six years, starting from when he was arrested. But, if he gets time off for good behaviour, he could be out in less than five.” At the gasps echoing around her, she nodded in commiseration. “I know it seems harsh, but believe me, it could have been a lot worse. He was charged with terrorist activities against an ally of the Federation. If that charge had stuck, he would have been jailed for life, possibly even extradited to Cardassia as a war criminal. I don’t have to tell you what that would have meant. The general consensus was that he got off pretty lightly, considering he was one of the top leaders of the Maquis.”

Bendera intervened to get the discussion back on track. “You know, Kathryn, your offer gives us an option we hadn’t previously considered.” Glancing around to include the others, he added, “Maybe we should think about settling here permanently, or if not here, some place where we can make a home together.” Taking Kathryn’s arm, he began to walk towards the buildings, then paused and looked at his companions, before he started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” demanded B’Elanna Torres indignantly.

With his tongue firmly in his cheek, Bendera replied. “I just realized – I don’t think you’ve been properly introduced.”

The entire group broke into laughter, then, led by Torres, came up one by one to Kathryn. In no time, she’d learned the dark-haired man was Mike Ayala, and the fair one Hogan (he didn’t seem to have a first name). The other two men were Ken Dalby and Chell, a Bolian, while the other woman was Mariah Henley. Except for Torres and Chell, all were human.

As they approached the nearest building, a low structure with a covered verandah running its full length, Bendera steered Kathryn up the stairs and inside. “This is our communal dining hall, meeting place, whatever you want to call it. Chell,” he called out, “any chance for something to eat?”

The Bolian bustled forward. “As a matter of fact, I was just going to start serving dinner when you arrived. Oh dear, I hope it hasn’t gotten cold.” Muttering worriedly to himself, he disappeared through a door only to come back a minute later with two plates in hand. “Here you are. It’s borq’zak stew again, I’m afraid, but there isn’t a lot of choice out here.” He placed the plates on a large table, then took Kathryn’s arm. “Now just sit right down here, Kathryn…. May I call you Kathryn? Oh good, now as I was saying, sit down here and dig in. I do hope you’re not a vegetarian like the captain…. It was always such a problem, you know, trying to create different dishes that didn’t have any meat. Although, if I do say so myself, at times, I was quite inspired….” The entire time he was chattering, he kept moving, bringing out more plates of food until everyone had been served.

Overwhelmed, Kathryn stared at him, quite bemused. When he finally disappeared into his kitchen again, she leaned forward to whisper. “Is he always this talkative?”

“Oh yes,” replied Bendera, “Bolians are, you know. Haven’t you run into any before?”

“Well, yes, but none that were so….” Pausing, she tried to think of the right word.

“Verbose,” came from B’Elanna Torres on her other side. “Don’t worry about Chell, he just likes the sound of his own voice. He’ll talk your ear off, if you let him. The trick is that you don’t.”

“I see.” Kathryn wasn’t sure what else to say.

A moment later, Chell was back with his own plate, sitting down between Henley and Hogan.

After taking several bites, Bendera put down his fork and looked around. “People, we have a decision to make, and now is as good a time as any to discuss it. You all heard Kathryn’s offer as well as her request to stay. The question is…what do we want to do? Whatever we decide, I think it needs to be unanimous. We’re too small a group to be going in different directions.” Picking up his fork, he resumed eating.

Ayala was the first to speak; he was in favour of staying put. “It’s not the best land I ever saw, but with some work, I think we could make it productive.”

Several others agreed before Dalby spoke up. “I’d like to look around a bit before we make a final decision.”

Henley nodded, clearly in agreement. “We shouldn’t stay here just because it’s convenient. There might be something better in the next system or two.”

“Okay,” Bendera concluded. “First, can I gather from what I’m hearing that you’re all agreed that Kathryn can stay?” Seeing the nods from the other five, he continued. “Very well. Then, how about this idea? We sit tight for the moment, but we’ll send out a reconnaissance team,” he nodded at Dalby and Ayala, “to see what else there is. By the end of a month, if they haven’t found anything better, we’ll settle here.”

There was a general murmur of consent from around the table.

With a nod of satisfaction, Kurt picked up his mug, then turned to Kathryn. “One advantage of this planet is that there are so few people on it, there’s no government of any kind and therefore, no one to bother us. We’re pretty far off the beaten track here, which means it’s as safe a spot as we’re likely to find.”

“That’s certainly an advantage in this region of space,” she replied thoughtfully.

As they finished their meal, B’Elanna leaned forward. “You’ll need somewhere to stay,” she stated abruptly. “I’ve got an extra bed at my place you’re welcome to use.”

“Thank you, I’ll take you up on that offer.” Kathryn didn’t attempt to hide her surprise. She’d been wondering where she might lay her head, but certainly hadn’t expected to find a place with Torres.

Shortly after, as darkness fell, the two of them ambled out the door and down the path to a small house on the other side, also fronted by a large covered porch. Opening the door, the young woman activated a light strip, then led the way inside. “Here we are. It’s plain but cosy and easy to look after.” Walking down the narrow hall, she showed Kathryn a small bedroom at the back, containing a single bed and a table with a computer on it as well as a number of drawings. “I’ll move this stuff.”

Scooping up the drawings under one arm, she lifted the computer and headed out the door to an equally small room next door. “The bathroom’s there,” she pointed to a door across the hall as she entered her bedroom. When she reappeared a moment later, she continued the tour. “And the kitchen, such as it is, is beside it. I have most of my meals in the common room, but sometimes, if I’m working on something, it’s easier to eat here. The front porch there serves as the living room, parlour, whatever you want to call it.”

“It looks just fine,” remarked Kathryn, as she followed B’Elanna back out to the porch. Taking a chair beside her hostess, she sighed tiredly. “It’s been a long day. And I just realized my bag is still sitting in that bar on Badrin. I don’t even have a toothbrush.”

“We’re pretty much the same size, I’ll lend you whatever you need.”

“Thanks, I’m in your debt.”

“Don’t worry about it. We live communally here, sharing whatever we need to.”

“Like a family,” remarked Kathryn.

“Yes.” B’Elanna’s voice went very soft. “The only real family I’ve ever had.”

They remained silent for several minutes, until B’Elanna turned to look at Kathryn, her face reflecting the light shining through the open door. “I was the only other person besides Kurt who knew you were on the ship,” she stated abruptly. “I was also in the bar on Badrin with Chakotay and Tuvok.”

Staring at her in astonishment, Kathryn exclaimed. “That’s right! I’d forgotten you were there. So much happened right afterward and there’s a lot I don’t recall from that time.”

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

Before she could continue, a figure appeared out of the darkness. “B’Elanna, Kathryn” came Kurt Bendera’s voice, “the others are still talking in the common room about what we’re going to do. You both should be there.”

Blinking back her weariness, Kathryn got to her feet. “Well, then, we better come.”

Taking Bendera’s arm to guide her over the unfamiliar ground, she hurried to keep up with his quick steps as B’Elanna went ahead.

They arrived at the common room to find opinions flying thick and fast around the room. Quickly finding seats, Torres and Bendera soon were in the middle of the discussion.

Kathryn, however, settled herself to one side, content to listen to the voices of her new friends. Sitting there, relaxed, she realized she felt at home here in a way she never would have expected. These people, family to each other, were fast becoming family to her, too.

By the time she and B’Elanna headed to bed, hours later, she knew she had made the right decision in seeking them out. This was where she belonged.

* * *

The main door of the prison opened, quickly ending Kathryn’s reminiscing. Getting to her feet, she walked forward as a tall, solidly built man stepped through onto the sidewalk, his eyes looking around as he began to move away from the gate. Gasping with joy, she strode quickly across the road to stand directly in his path.

“Chakotay,” she called softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head snapped up to stare at her in astonishment. Although his mouth opened, for several seconds no sound came out until he finally croaked hoarsely. “Kath…Kathryn?!” As he spoke, he leaned forward to peer at her face, obviously not sure he could believe his eyes.

Her hands reached out to grasp his forearms. “Yes, Chakotay, it’s me, Kathryn. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He stumbled forward a step as his hands came up to grip her shoulders. “Kathryn?!” His voice filled with burgeoning joy. “Is it you? Is it really you?”

“Yes, Chakotay,” she laughed delightedly. “It’s really me.”

A second later, she was wrapped in his arms, his face buried tightly in her shoulder as he shook with emotion. “Kathryn, Kathryn,” he sobbed. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Her hands stroked his hair soothingly. “I’m here, Chakotay, and I’m staying. We’ll never be separated again.”

For a moment longer, he held her close to him, then loosened his grip enough to stare into her face. One hand came up to gently touch her cheek, his fingers just brushing her skin. His eyes were filled with a mix of astonishment, delight and love. “Kathryn, I dreamed of seeing you again, but I never really dared to hope it would actually happen. How did you know when I’d be released? Aren’t you taking a chance that Starfleet will find out you’re here? What did you mean when you said we’ll never be separated…?” His voice trailed off at the sudden frown on her face as she glanced at her chronometer.

Gripping his hand tightly, she turned to start walking. “Come along, Chakotay. Everything’s arranged but we have to hurry if we’re to catch the shuttle.”

“Shuttle to where?” he asked, puzzled.

“To San Francisco. We’re booked on the evening transport to Deep Space Nine and we don’t have a lot of time to make the connection.”

Coming to a halt, he swung her around to face him. “Deep Space Nine?! Why would we want to go there?”

Again, she pulled him forward into step with her. “I’ll explain it all on the shuttle, but for now, all you need to know is that we’re going home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted Feb. 4, 2004 - MaryS


End file.
